Youra (Lorna and Ian / Nathan and Ani)

[x-cable.livejournal.com]

Four people mark an anniversary.


He hadn't spent as much time as he'd expected in the remains of the training barracks. Just a moment, to stand and remember, and reassure himself that the memory was as clear in his mind as it had been for the last year. Photographic telepath's memory or not, Nathan had wanted to make sure. He didn't want those memories to ease over time; he wanted them to stay clear and sharp in his mind. Always.

He wasn't even sure you could call it masochism. Because the pain had faded, or at least dulled. Besides, there were other, better memories that were just as clear. You couldn't have the whole without all the pieces.

"Pretty view," Anika said softly from beside him. They were at the edge of one of the cliffs dropping off towards the ocean, about fifteen minutes' walk from the Blackbird. Nathan smiled down at her and she put his arm through his, leaning her blonde head on his shoulder. "I think we should make a habit of this, don't you? Coming back every year."

"I think that would be good," he said quietly, the smile lingering. Year after year, watching the land and the elements reclaim what was left of the Mistra installation. He patted her arm. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah. I thought I'd be angrier, coming back here, but I'm not. We did a good thing," Ani said, and he heard the tears below the surface of her voice. "Cost us a hell of a lot, but in the end..."

"In the end," Nathan echoed, as if that said it all. And maybe it did. The sunlight glinted off the sea, and he sighed, a bit more heavily than he'd intended. "I still miss them."

"Me too. All of them." She rubbed his arm with her cheek for a moment, in one of those endearing feral gestures. "Awfully glad you're here, though. I just wish Gavin and Izzy and Chris were, too."

"You know, I kind of wish Mac was here?" Ani gave him a raised eyebrow and Nathan laughed softly. "Yeah, I know. But a lot's happened in a year."

"I'll confess to not finding him nearly as objectionable as I used to. But I won't confess it in his hearing," Ani said primly.

"Of course not. He might let down his guard."

"Exactly." She looked up at him for a long, thoughtful moment. "Did you ever finish that poem?"

Nathan sighed, less heavily this time. "Not yet. Maybe for next year."

"I liked what there was of it."

"Hell, I like what there is of it. I just can't end it yet."

She patted his arm. "You're a perfectionist, you know that." Her gaze turned back to the water. "I wonder sometimes what Mick would have wanted, if he'd lived. What we would have done with the rest of our lives."

His heart ached for a moment as he thought of how happy they had been, those last few months. "I suspect that he would have been happy so long as you were happy, Ani."

"Do you think he still would be?" There was an odd little catch in her voice. "Now, I mean. If he's watching. Do you think he'd be happy if I was happy?"

Nathan's own breath caught a little at the faint touch of shame and uncertainty in her voice. "Absolutely," he said very softly. "There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Well, I just thought you might have some input on that." Her voice was a little brighter, but she sounded like she was about to cry again. Nathan sighed and turned, wrapping his arms around her tightly, and she buried her face against his chest. "It's just so hard," she whispered. "Knowing whether it's right to move on."

"I know. Believe me, I know." He rubbed her back soothingly. "But no one else can tell you when it's time, Ani. And stopping grieving doesn't mean that you forget the people you've lost." His own voice was a little thick, remembering what the psionic echo of GW had told him. "Try and smile when you think of Mick. I think that would make him happier than guilt."

And she looked up at him and was smiling, even through her tears. "Good advice," she said.

"I like to think so," he said, and realized that he was doing the same.

---

Ian Piers was doing something wholly unproductive and completely unsuited to the solemnity of the day. He was throwing rocks - specifically, he was throwing rocks at what had been the barracks. There were a number of windows still intact. Part of Ian had decided, rather childishly, that it was his duty to make sure that every last single one of them was broken.

It was surprising how long muscle memory lingered. Even though everything here was silent and dead, she could feel her body tight with tension, almost aching from readiness. No need to fight today though. This fight was over. Lorna walked away from the airfield where she'd once ripped the wings off a plane to the barracks.

The sound of shattering glass had her snapping shields into place without even thinking though she relaxed a moment later. "Nice throw," she said quietly and stepped up next to Ian.

He made a noise that would have been better suited to an angry cat than a human being, then moved on to the next window. It shattered, and he bent to pick up another rock. "Why the fuck they didn't bulldoze this place, I'll never understand," he said gruffly.

"Maybe it didn't seem like it was worth the effort to them." She picked up a rock herself but didn't throw it, looking around instead and remembering. There was where she'd wrapped metal around bone. There was where she'd been focused when Nolan had died. Her shields had been so poor then. "How are they doing? The ones we fought here? You said they all lived but..."

"Some of them are apparently doing things like feeding and dressing themselves now," Ian said, a whole world of bitterness in his voice. "Mac still gets news on them regularly." He broke another window, his aim perfect. "And they're being well cared for. They'll never want for anything. Except the lives they should have had the chance to lead."

Nothing really to say to that. Nothing that wasn't a pathetic cliché without any meaning anyway. Lorna rolled the rock in her hand then dropped it on the ground. "I...the building is supported with steel beams." She looked up at him.

He gave a strange little laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Oh, really. Suppose anyone would mind? I really... would like to see this place turned to rubble. Call it transference, or whatever." He cracked a strained grin. "I suppose I didn't put up with the government shrinks for long enough."

"If someone minds, I'll be sure to apologise very nicely. Want another go at the windows first?" She ignored the part about the shrinks. Therapy was only good for so much. Sometimes it took more than just soothing words from an overeducated meddler to cleanse the soul.

"Nah." Ian was quiet for a minute. "Bring the damned place down around its own ears. There's this part of me that thinks the nightmares'll last as long as it does. That's probably pretty stupid, but hell..."

"It's not stupid. It's anything but stupid." Lorna gave him a soft smile and shrugged, "Hell, there are plenty of things that I wish I had the opportunity to do this do." Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the building, seeking out weaknesses in the metal, trying to figure out the best way to bring it down. The concrete would hold strong against just yanking it straight out. Have to be a little more clever than that. "If I fall down, make sure I don't hit my head okay?"

"You mean you're going to swoon dramatically into my arms? How did I get so lucky..."

"I mean that I haven't done anything this large scale in months." And really it had been Malice who had done the work then. Lorna's stomach knotted. "Just...catch me if I fall. I like this outfit and it's dry clean only." She closed her eyes and extended her hands toward the barracks, gathering EM fields and starting to twist the steel.

Ian took a step closer to her, prudently, although his eyes were fixed on the building as it started to collapse. "I keep wondering if I shouldn't have grabbed you and pushed you out of the building like I did," he said. "Whether we might have been able to do something if we stayed. Intellectually I know we probably both would have been swarmed, like Lauren was, but still..."

She was listening but too intent on her task to respond. The steel twisted with a wail like a wounded creature, bending inward and taking the cracking concrete with it. Her hands clenched to fists as she upped the pull, nails digging into her hands. The building tumbled in an almost graceful fall of dust and stone. Lorna swayed in place.

Ian reached out and laid a hand on her arm, without taking his eyes off the ruins of the building. "That's better," he said almost violently. "Much better." He raised his other hand and scrubbed at his eyes.

"We'd have died." Lorna said, quietly. "If you hadn't made us leave, we'd have died. Probably us and the operatives both." She leaned against him, tired but not exhausted as she'd expected to be. "It was the right thing to do."

"One of those split-second choices. I just thought we had to get some space between us and them." The tears were pouring freely down his face now, but his voice was still steady. "I should have told Mark to fall back to cover sooner than I did."

Lorna shook her head. "My fault. I wasn't as good at shielding as I should have been. If I'd been paying attention that metal wouldn't have made it through." Lorna wrapped an arm around Ian's waist, her own eyes stinging with tears and guilt.

"We make quite a pair, don't we? All the 'should haves'..." Ian sighed a bit shakily, putting an arm around her as well in an awkward hug. "We did the right thing, though. We did everything we could at the time. Right?"

She could have killed. It would have saved Mark. Would have saved Lauren. "Right."

"You don't sound sure. I wish I could blame you." Without removing the arm from around her shoulders, Ian turned, tugging her gently in the direction of the shoreline, away from the rubble.
"Second-guessing isn't good, I know that. Hard not to do it, though."

"It feels like that's all I do these days. Like I just need to hold still for a long time and hold my breath." She turned with him, not really looking where he was leading, just watching the ground at her feet. "But we did what we had to do here. It was the best we could have done."

"Mac gets news about the kids, too. They're all doing well. All of them," Ian muttered distractedly. "That counts for something, right? They all get second chances."

"I think it does." Lorna looked up and over the water.

"I'm going to be doing something different," Ian said after a long moment, almost abruptly. "Once we've finished this business with Nathan's uncle, because I'm not leaving that undone. Between everything that he did to Nate, and killing GW, and being a part of all of this... I'll see it through. But after." He stopped again, almost uncertainly. "I don't know what. But something else. Something where my friends don't die."

Lorna nodded. "I think that's a good decision. Give yourself that second chance too." She hugged him, one-armed. "I'm going back to the team, myself. I'm not done yet and I have a lot to make up for."

"Redemption's a trap. Someone I know told me that, once. Large annoying know-it-all bastard. You might know who I'm talking about," Ian said, leaning against her for a moment. "Focus on the not being done yet, okay? There's more in that. Happier endings, too."

"Yeah, that jerk. Nosy and pushy just like all telepaths. He's going to gloat during our first DR session, I know he is." Lorna smiled. "It'll all be okay. You can go settle down and raise bunnies for angora and I'll take over the saving the world and looking good doing it part."

"I did think you were very attractive in black leather. Although I find my taste these days runs to blondes." He gave her a tiny, painful smile. "It's a good thing I'm more patient than your average feral."

"Thanks. I'd hate to think that my uniform makes me look fat." Lorna gave him a sympathetic look, "She'll come around, I'm sure. Patience is good. Persistence is better. Have you actually told her yet?"

"No," Ian said somewhat sheepishly. "The words keep running away and hiding everytime I do. It's very vexing."

"Write them down. That way if they try to run away, you'll have them trapped on a piece of paper so they can't." Lorna nodded. "It's a time honoured method. And works really well for scrapbooks to show the grandkids."

"I could leave her notes. She'd probably beat me, but hell, I heal." He gave her a sudden, keen look. "The nosy pushy jerk also told me that this was not a small talk subject I probably wanted to turn around on you. You okay?"

She looked away and shrugged one shoulder. "Like I said, I'm just waiting right now. Does this mean he told you about Alex?"

"Yeah. Mostly because I was, um, asking him for advice and said something flippant about asking you for blond-handling tips."

Lorna nodded. "I don't know what happened. I just couldn't stand it anymore." She looked up at him, "Don't...don't tell anyone I said this but...it's not that I don't love him. I just sort of wish that I didn't because I can't live the way he wants me to."

Ian tilted his head, staring out at the water for a long few moments before he answered. "You're not happy about this, I can smell it. It makes me kind of angry, but not at anyone in particular. Just seems unfair, I guess. That love's not enough."

"No...no, I'm not happy. I'm trying to get by without needing to be though." Lorna sighed and rubbed her temple, feeling a dull headache coming on. "Alex thinks that I cheated on him. Jamie says that I should tell him that I didn't. I don't know what to do about it at all."

"You said you were getting back on your team," Ian said. "You want my advice? Finish doing that first. Be who you need to be, doing what you need to be doing. You'll feel more yourself, then, when you finally sit down and figure out what to do about Alex. Solid ground beneath your feet while you figure out how the rest of it all fits, if you get me."

Lorna shrugged, "That's what I've been trying to do. Just let everything settle so that I can figure out what I did to my life. Maybe everything will make more sense then." Or maybe not. She wasn't holding onto that hope too tightly. "But my life is boring and depressing right now. You should be concentrating on leaving those notes."

"Why should I be concentrating on that anymore than you?" Ian said, then gave her an odd look. "Lorna, how old you do think I am?"

"Beside it's better to concentrate on good things than bad." The second question made her blink then shrug. "You look like you're 28 but I'm guessing that's just good genes. Late 30s I guess. I never really thought about it. Does it matter?"

"I'm about six months or so younger than Nate," Ian said. "I was in the next training group following his. So that's almost twenty-five years I spent with Mistra. Twenty-five really shitty years, on the whole, but I wouldn't trade some of it for anything. And I'd trade a lot to have some of it back." He stared out at the water, then sighed. "But I don't want to drift. I don't ever want to drift, and I don't think you should, either. There's a difference between letting things settle and moving forward, sometimes. But I guess when it starts getting easy again, you'll know it's time to push."

It was stupid that that should make her cry. Not when being here in the first place hadn't. Not when walking out of the apartment in Hawaii hadn't. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes, stifling the urge. "Nothing is easy," she said quietly after a while. "Not anymore."

Ian blinked down at her and then hugged her, much less tentatively. "Then just stick with what feels right, okay? There has to be some way to do that, and feel back in balance."

She leaned into him, still trying not to cry. "That's the plan. Do what I think is right and...hope I'm not completely wrong."

"You know, it's a funny thing, but I'm firmly of the belief that the woman who stuck it out with me in the middle of something out of a horror movie a year ago is probably tough enough to pull herself through anything. Besides," he said with a sigh, "it's never wrong to be honest when it comes to something this important. Hard, but never wrong."

Lorna looked back at the remains of the barracks. "I can do what's hard." She looked up at him. "It's been some year, hasn't it?"

"Hell of a year," Ian agreed ruefully. "But we're both still here. And that counts for something, doesn't it?"

"I think it does. Means that we still have a chance. Me to sort out my life. You to get the girl." She nudged him in the ribs. "So what is it that we're waiting for?"

"The right phase of the moon? All the planets to be in alignment?" Ian snorted, but a smile slipped out. "Hell, I don't know. It's one of those mysteries of life, I guess."

"Tell you what, we'll make a pact. I'll talk to my COs and finish up getting back on the team. You write your little notes and tell your girl how you feel. If either of us chickens out, that person has to buy dinner." Lorna looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Sound like a plan?"

He proferred a hand. "Deal."

Lorna shook it firmly. "Good. Call you next week?"

"Email me. I'll be in Armenia." He snorted again. "Don't ask. Running errands for the pushy jerk."

"Email it is." She grinned and turned back toward the plane. "You'd better have told her."

Ian sniffed. "You have no faith in me whatsoever."

"Says who? If I didn't, you'd have had a month not just a week."

"Oh, I see. I'll just have to beat that by a few days then, won't I?"

Lorna's grin broadened. "If you do it in the next 24 hours, I'll make you dinner anyway."

His eyes narrowed. "Oh-ho. Pulling out the big guns, are we?" He looked ahead of them, to where a slight blonde figure was following the unmistakable shape of Nathan back to the Blackbird as well. "I'll have to give that some serious thought. I mean, it's your food."

"And as such worth doing so many more things for than you would do for a Klondike bar." She smiled. "Time's flying. Now is the time to push."